


The Yogurt Incident

by This_ape_writes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, New Relationship, Slash-ish, cursing because all of my characters have filthy mouths, post STID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:24:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8421694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_ape_writes/pseuds/This_ape_writes
Summary: Jim has to make a decision about his relationship with his best friend and it's making it really hard to sleep.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been binge listening to the podcast Big Magic. (Amazing listen if you get the chance) and a lady on there was telling a story about how when she reached a crossroads in her life where she needed to quit her job her brain wouldn't let her make any other decisions until she made that big one and said she couldn't even pick out Yogurt. Damn but that idea was awesome so I turned it into this nonsense.
> 
> Oh yeah and I also saw a post on Tumblr that asked the very important OTP question of which one is nervous before their first kiss and which one whispers "it's just me, relax"
> 
> Also I suck at writing kissing.

The store around me was silent. 

It was so quiet that I could hear the lyricless non offensive music being pumped with insistent softness through the ceiling tiles far above my head. One of the side effects of choosing to shop at 2:34 in the morning when no one else in their right mind is even awake. And even though logically I know there is nothing to actually see coming from those speakers I find myself craning my neck back and staring about thirty feet above me anyway. 

The melody from the lyricless music isn't a song that I recognize and my attention drifts. 

The ceiling is really high. 

I wonder who changes out the light bulbs in this place. 

How do they even get up there?

God I'm so tired. 

Why can't I just sleep?

I open my eyes and the lack of lights from the seafood department behind my shoulder catches my attention. I glance over at its silent facade and my stomach drops. It's irrational but it feels ominous like it has been swallowed by a black hole and I turn away from it before it can start to fully creep me out. 

It still smells vaguely of crab.

I look back at the empty display cases still filled with crushed ice and nothing more and I change my mind. It's not like a black hole it's more like being at your grade school after hours when the classrooms are dark and empty and wrong. 

I gotta focus and get the hell out of here. 

I'm losing my grip on reality. 

Four days of not sleeping is catching up with me fast. 

My attention pulls back to the two yogurt cups I am holding and I notice they have both started to turn warm in my hands and I realize I have no idea how long I have been standing on this lonely deserted aisle. 

I glance at the blueberry yogurt in my left hand with a smiling cow boasting it now has more real fruit and then at the blueberry yogurt in my right with an impressionist painting of a blueberry plant and no added hormones or rbst and I realize I am incapable of deciding which one to buy. 

I sit on the ledge of the refrigerated cheese display behind me and I can feel the cold air through my worn out t-shirt as goose bumps erupt across my shoulders and down my arms. My eyes unfocus and drift to the floor. 

I can feel my brain just give up. 

This is probably just the insomnia catching up to me still. I have only had about three hours of sleep each night for the past four days. But as soon as I think that my brain chuckles at me and tells me I'm wrong. I know what's shutting me down.  
It's the same thing that's been causing the insomnia in the first place. 

I need to acknowledge the trex sized decision that I had been blindsided with four days ago or I'm probably not going to be able to do much of anything else. Ever.

Hell l can't even decide on a brand of yogurt. 

I set the yogurt down behind me and rub my hand across my forehead in a weak hope that maybe blood flow will get my brain working again. 

Of course it doesn't. 

"Dammit," I mutter. Why did he have to do this to me now? But even before I finish thinking it I realize how stupid the question is. 

This isn't something you can plan and add into an agenda for the year. Sometimes things just...happen. 

In fact he'd used almost those exact words as he stared at the floor with slightly flushed cheeks and with only a minimal amount of cursing, confessed how his feelings for me had changed. 

I'm still not quite sure why my brain is reacting this way. It's not like the news was particularly shocking. I mean it was. I never in a trillion years thought he'd ever get up the nerve.

But I'd had those same thoughts about him for years. It's just that I'd taken mine kicking and screaming into the locked basement of my mind and chained them up there hoping they would die and leave me be. 

 

Now he is asking me to go back into that basement and unlock the dark musty room where those feelings have been neglectedly wasting away into nothing and face up to what I've done to them and ask for their forgiveness as I let them out. 

I don't know if I can do that. 

"Hey...uh...cheese aisle dude you ok?" My neck cranes back up to the ceiling to stare at the speakers again and for a split second I think...God? 

But then I realize I'm the only asshole in the whole store right now and I look like I've completely lost my mind. Whoever is in charge of camera security probably views me as a red flag. I drop my head into my hands as I balance my elbows on my knees and I make the universal ok sign of a thumbs up above my head. 

"You sure man I mean you kinda look like hell," the voice says. I snort. "Is there someone I can call for you or something?" 

Yeah. I think. You can call my asshole of a best friend and tell him that of course I love him. That I've loved him terribly for years, and the idea of being with him sounds like the best thing in the world. But I don't say that. Instead I shake my head and stand up. 

"No I'm good thanks!" I yell at the sky and I chuckle. "I'm actually really good." I pick up the impressionist painting yogurt and drop it in the orange basket over my arm and I almost trip I'm running now to the front of the store so fast. 

I don't need help. 

I know exactly what I want.

 

The drive to his apartment should take twenty three minutes. I'm at his door in fifteen and really hoping he's still awake. I debate for a few minutes about just using my thumbprint to let myself in like always but under the circumstances that seems...weird. 

Instead I'm banging on his door at almost three am, still holding my bag of groceries. 

A dog from next door starts barking at me for my efforts and I have a vision of the whole neighborhood waking up to yell at me to shut the hell up and that almost makes me chicken out when the door under my knuckles swings open. He's wearing a mild look of shock and holding a mug of something steaming so at least I didn't wake him. That's makes me feel a little bit better as I screw up my courage. I falter a bit and make a few false starts before lowering my head and stepping inside. 

"I haven't slept in four days I hope you're happy," I say as I brush past him into his kitchen. 

"Please come in," he mutters behind me but I can hear amusement in his tone as he shuts the door. 

I'm nervous now. I don't know why. But I find myself pacing in his kitchen and spitting out whatever pops into my head in some kind of stream of consciousness word vomit. 

"I couldn't pick out yogurt just now. I was...I was sitting there and my brain wouldn't work. I was in there for almost an hour staring at my hands like an idiot and this is all your fault." I pull open his silverware drawer to try and find a spoon and I hear the sound of one of the stools he has around his island being pulled across the floor but I don't turn to look at him. I keep rambling as I slam his drawer shut and lean against his counter. 

I pop the lid off of my hard earned yogurt and purple droplets scatter their way across his clean white counter but I don't clean it up. I lick off what has landed on the back of my hand and I start stirring with more force than is strictly necessary for the task. 

"That was not at all what I was prepared for this week. Not at all. I'd killed those feelings I had for you a long fucking time ago and it's not fair that you get to just casually bring them back up now just because you feel like it, it's not fucking fair. And not NOW not when I can't even distract myself with work. I have literally been trapped in my head with nothing else now for four days and why the hell did you pick NOW to tell me? I can't sleep!!"

I drop the yogurt on the counter and lean back against the edge of the sink, staring at my shoes. I feel a little bit dizzy. And I feel exhausted.  
I can feel my heart contracting in my chest. And I'm shaking. Good god I'm shaking. What the hell is wrong with me. 

I've run out of steam. Both mentally and physically. I want to just lie down on the floor and sleep but I can't move. Or speak. So I just stare.

 

I don't even hear him move, he's like a damn cat. Somehow he has managed a stealth move across the kitchen and I jump as he grabs ahold of my wrist and gently lifts it up so that he can take the spoon I'm still clutching on to for dear life out of my grip. He sets it in the sink behind me with a clink and runs water over it, still holding my wrist as he does.  
His thumb is pressing into the palm of my hand and he's standing so close that I can hear my own breathing echo off his chest. 

 

"You had feelings that you killed off a long time ago,huh?" He asks. I hear amusement in that statement too and it makes me just a little bit angry. The smug jerk. 

"Not that it worked that well," I mutter. 

"Ah I see," he says. He tugs on my arm and wraps his arms around me in a warm hug that engulfs me. I try my best to passively resist with my hands at my sides and the pull of gravity to keep me leaning against the sink but I'm really fucking tired. And my defenses aren't at their peak. So my body betrays me by leaning my cheek into his shoulder and closing my eyes as I let myself relax just a tiny bit into his touch. 

"I shouldn't have waited four days," I admit in a mumble as my cheek stays pressed against him.  
"I should have told you immediately how I felt but I freaked out. Look at me I'm shaking," I say. He chuckles. 

"It's just me," he says and I think that that is both the solution to and the cause of the problem. 

"Yeah sure," I mutter. "Just you. Just the one constant person in my life and the one person it would kill me to lose."

I feel him sigh and his cheek rests itself against the back of my head. I give in a little bit more and lift my arms just enough to grab ahold of his shirt. 

"You have no idea how terrifying this is," I say in a voice that sounds so pathetic I wish I could pull it back in before he can hear it but it's too late. 

"Alright look at me for a second," he says as he grabs my shoulders and pushes me just a little bit away. I screw my eyes shut out of spite and that earns me a laugh. "No. come on. Look at me." I peel one eye open and look at him and really wish that I hadn't. I haven't seen him in four days and to spite looking like he has somehow managed LESS sleep than even I have he makes it look gorgeous. 

He's all rough edges and dark circles and I really want to eat him alive. 

"Stop cringing at me," he says and I realize I'm still squinting. So I stop. "It's still just me I swear it is," he adds. "Now look, you don't think this is a little bit terrifying for me too?" He asks. "I'm the one with a failed marriage under his belt and the interpersonal skills of a rabid dog." That description catches me off guard and it is so dead on I can't help it, it makes me laugh. And I lean against his counter a little bit more and laugh at that mental image for a while. My shoulders are shaking underneath his hands and I know it's just the exhaustion but it feels really good just to laugh. 

"Alright kid it wasn't that funny," he says but when I open my eyes I see that he's fighting back a smile. He runs his hands up my arms as I get a little bit of control and he takes another deep breath. "I'm scared too. I am. And I know just exactly how easy it is to lose you." His eyes turn darker as he says that and my heart skips. 

That kicks away any remaining desire to laugh as I realize that's coming from the very soul of this man who did lose me to death and fought against everything to get me back. 

The always present elephant in the room that we just both ignore.  
He continues to do just that as he keeps going with his prior train of thought. 

"But that's all the more reason of why I want to try and make this work. Look. It's cheesy and stupid but I...I just don't want to fall asleep without you next to me anymore," he rushes out with a huff. 

I grab his shirt and pull him back to me as I drop my head against his shoulder again. 

"I love you too," I say. 

And it only took me five years and four days. 

He takes a step back and I realize he's going to kiss me before I even have a chance to lift my head but it still surprises me when his lips brush mine. He chuckles again as I tense up and I can feel him smile with his lips just millimeters away. 

"Hey," he says, "it's still just me. Relax a little bit alright?" I nod and try and breathe but he doesn't give me much of a chance to do anything else before he really kisses me. It makes me suck in a startled breath and it's been awhile for me since I've kissed anyone as shocking as that sounds but I don't think kissing has ever been quite like this. 

And my crappy reputation is built on pretty solid truth. I've sampled quite a few different people in my life so far. Not any in the last three years, mind you. Not that I hadn't tried but funnily enough my heart wasn't in it. It kinda belonged to someone else. Not that I'm going to tell him that bit of info just yet. He doesn't need the ego boost it would make him unbearably smug. 

But back when I was still ACTIVELY building that reputation of mine, I had considered myself a pretty decent kisser. 

But my god, if I was pretty decent, this man is a gold medal champion of the universe and he's making me lose my damn mind. His thumb is resting along the side of my neck and the rest of his fingers are wrapped around to the base of my skull. His other hand has found it's way into my hair and he gives it a slight tug for leverage that makes me a little weak. 

His lips are wide and soft and he is taking his goddamned time. His lower lip catches on mine and it slides open as it drags across my own with painful slowness leaving a tiny trail of moisture in its wake. He coaxes my lips apart with tiny little nips and nudges and with the leverage of his thumb that's now slid against my chin he licks his way inside to meet my tongue with insistent flawless pressure and every nerve in my body pops to life with a zing. I gasp at the sensation and that is all the encouragement he needs to tilt his head and devour me whole. I grab at whatever I can to keep from falling over and I'm pretty sure that I'm going to die from sensory overload but Damn what a way to go. 

 

Eventually oxygen depletion forces us to take a break and as he leans against my forehead with his lips resting on my cheek I am vaguely aware that I am quietly whispering,

"Shit shit shit shit shit," over and over into his neck. 

I feel him twitch as he hears me and that earns me his own dissolve into laughter. He kisses down the side of my face and ends with a soft kiss on the corner of my still cursing mouth before he leans back and reels in his laughing. 

"It's late," he says as I pry my eyes open and shut myself up by biting my lip. "You're not driving home. I won't let you. If you're ok with it I'd really like you to sleep with me. And I really do mean just sleep. As much as I don't want that to be the case I don't think either one of us has the energy for anything else. Not right now,". I sigh and nod my head. If he does anything else with as much gusto as his kissing he's absolutely right. I need some time to prepare. 

"Sleep would be great," I admit. And he kisses the tip of my nose. I scrunch up my face in annoyance and rub the back of my hand across my nose as he chuckles and tugs me to my feet. 

"Dammit Bones," I grumble as he winds my hand in his and pulls me through his kitchen turning lights out as we go. I notice vaguely that my grocery bag was still on the counter but that it was now empty and I grin when I realize he must have put the contents in his fridge. 

I didn't even see him do it but the thought of him taking care of me like that, even in such a tiny way, makes my heart kinda swell. 

He pulls me in to his bedroom and gives me the chance to climb into his overly plush bed before he turns out the light and joins me. I don't even get the chance to lay back against the pillows before he's wound himself around me like an overly enthusiastic squid and I chuckle as his nose finds my neck and I sigh. 

I've slept alone for so very long that I've forgotten how nice it is not to. 

Especially when the person who is comfortably lulling me to sleep is the only person I've loved in my pathetic life. I rest my arm on the one he has wrapped around my chest and I curl my chin in so I can kiss his wrist. 

"I wish I wasn't so exhausted," I admit as my eyes are already starting to close. I hear him yawn and he nods as he pulls me closer. 

"Me too," he says. "Of course if someone had just admitted all of this four days ago..." he says. 

And I elbow him to shut him up.


End file.
